The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [133]
“Hardly. I’m amazed that Muriele discovered this, much less acted on the information, but once our spies reported them coming, I did my best to encourage them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of my men met them at the docks with bow and arrow and killed one or two, then fled into the darkness. After that, the queen’s men didn’t ask questions—they stormed through the front door, where the guards naturally reacted to them before they understood who they were fighting. What was probably meant to be a peaceful interrogation ended up in bloodshed. Do you know how many were killed?”
“I’m not sure, my lord—but more than a few.”
“I feel foolish for not having planted the evidence of this meeting myself,” the tenor said. “Still, it’s all worked out quite well.”
“I really don’t see how.”
“He’s right,” a third voice said. This one sounded familiar to Leoff, but he couldn’t place it. “If one of us had been found there, things might be different. As it is, Muriele’s men will find little of substance—little to justify this attack. It will seem as if they burst into an innocent gathering and began slaughtering landwaerden.”
“Indeed,” the tenor agreed. “Even the few loyal members of the Comven won’t be able to support this action. I believe this moves us well ahead of our schedule.”
“I urge caution, my lord,” the third man said. “Give the kingdom time to absorb this before you move.”
“No, I don’t think so,” the second man said. “The time to strike is now.”
“You mean tonight?” the baritone asked incredulously.
“Not tonight. But soon. Go to the camp. Tell them to be ready to cross the water.”
“Yes, my lord.”
One of the figures moved to the narrowboats, and soon he was rowing away on the canal.
“I’ll take my leave now, as well,” the familiar voice said. “But heed my advice—moving too quickly could be a mistake.”
“No, this is the perfect time.”
“There are many who still sympathize with the queen, and many more who will not care for you, milord. The situation does favor you, but there might be ways to sweeten it.”
“Well, your advice is always welcome,” the tenor said.
“After tonight, the landwaerden will be incensed,” the familiar voice went on. “Through Gramme, you can be certain of their support. The nobility, however, will not care much about a few dead waerds. In fact, this might actually draw a few of them back to the queen.”
“She’s worried them enough by forming her own Lierish guard.”
“Yes. But what if she began truncating all lines of succession other than Charles and Anne?”
“You mean by killing Gramme and her bastards?”
“Precisely.”
“But we need Gramme, I think, and her son could prove useful. He is, after all, William’s.”
“Yes. The assassinations of Gramme and the boy might be seen as bungled. But the girl is of no use to us.”
“Mery? No, I suppose she isn’t. And she’s probably in the queen’s custody right now. I suppose it couldn’t hurt matters. Can you arrange this?”
“It wouldn’t be hard,” the familiar voice said.
“Before tomorrow?”
“Are you in that much of a hurry?”
“Three days. No more.”
“That’s sufficient time, I suppose,” the familiar voice sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Just be ready to play your part, and all will go perfectly.”
“That’s just it. My men won’t arrive for another month.”
“We don’t need your men, Praifec. Only your word. Do I have it?”
“You have it.”
They left then, the praifec on foot, the other man in a narrowboat. Leoff held Mery still, shivering to the bone, only partially from the cold.
“I told you,” Mery said softly.
“It’s not going to happen, Mery,” Leoff promised. “They aren’t going to kill you. Come on.”
“If we go to the castle, they’ll find me.”
“I know. We’re not going to the castle.”
They took one of the narrowboats and went the direction the other man had not. By morning, they had reached a small, cheerful-looking town called Plinse. There Leoff carefully obtained directions to the vicinity of Meolwis. He also bought a cloak to hide Mery’s dress, and from there the two of them followed Leokwigh